


Something in the Quiet, Somewhere

by OrangeyCat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, brothers they are brothers, sleepybois - Fandom
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Touchy-Feely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 16:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30091713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeyCat/pseuds/OrangeyCat
Summary: But I don’t want to move…Tommy watched the steady rise and fall of Wilbur’s chest, the soft yellow sweater that cuffed around his wrists, the wavy brown hair that draped over his eyes when he was too tired to push it out of the way, his fingers draped gently over Tommy’s right shoulder, twitching in his sleep.Tommy’s own legs begged to be up and about. A shiver wracked down his spine. I want to stay. Please, just let me stay.He pressed his face into Wilbur’s knee. Please don’t make me leave.--Or: Tommy has a panic attack over pretty much nothing. I can relate to this
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 194





	Something in the Quiet, Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Ayoooo im back! Only took me like two months, but I really enjoyed writing this.

A funny expression slid its way onto Wilbur’s face. Tommy turned to look up and, quite rudely, Wilbur appeared to be struggling to hold back a laugh.

“Stop laughing at me!” 

“I’m not laughing at you!” Wilbur gently smacked the side of his face. 

“What is all that then?” Tommy mumbled in mock dejection, swatting his hand away. 

“You’re just…” 

“Just what, dickhead?” 

“Kind of adorable, right now, is all.” 

Tommy growled low in his throat and reached up to hit at Wilbur’s neck. “I am not a pussy.”

“You’re just so wholesome, Tommy,” Wilbur cooed, grabbing Tommy’s wrist easily. Tommy pulled against the hold and huffed when Wilbur’s grip didn’t budge. 

“This is child abuse.” 

“Mm.” 

Tommy grinned slyly when Wilbur finally let go of him. Unfortunately, his plans of revenge were quickly dropped, as he was now much too tired to fight back. Wilbur’s leg was warm, and he could feel his brother’s heartbeat in his ear. He rolled back over fully and snuggled himself further into both Wilbur’s leg and the couch, letting his eyes droop half closed at the light of the flatscreen. 

Wilbur put a hand on his shoulder and Tommy could feel him settle back into the couch with a long exhale. 

As soon as everything was silent again, save for the barely-there whistle of Wilbur’s breathing, Tommy’s nerves buzzed. He itched for something. Something that wasn’t whatever was going on right now. Some prominent switch in Tommy’s brain flipped in a split second. A strange feeling settled deep in his body as everything got quieter and quieter, peaceful and more peaceful. 

Why couldn’t he just…. Enjoy a moment here or there? Frustration dug a hole in his stomach. Why did he need to get up? Why did his body want him to get up? This was… safe, for lack of more sophisticated words. Wilbur, even though it may be a little dramatic, was, in a sense, protecting him. From what exactly, Tommy didn’t know, or care. But he was safe here, on Wilbur’s lap, in his apartment, in the safe neighborhood by the coast. Tommy just wanted his body and brain to settle for once. 

He squirmed subtly in desperation for noise, trying to restrain himself all while his mind screamed in terror for something other than this deafening quiet. He couldn’t wake Wilbur. 

_ Just calm down, please.  _

Tommy risked a glance upwards through wide eyes. Wilbur was slumped back and breathing slowly. Great. He was asleep. Maybe now Tommy could move without disturbing or worrying him. 

_ But I don’t want to move…  _

Tommy watched the steady rise and fall of Wilbur’s chest, the soft yellow sweater that cuffed around his wrists, the wavy brown hair that draped over his eyes when he was too tired to push it out of the way, his fingers draped gently over Tommy’s right shoulder, twitching in his sleep. 

Tommy’s own legs begged to be up and about. A shiver wracked down his spine.  _ I want to stay. Please, just let me stay.  _

He pressed his face into Wilbur’s knee.  _ Please don’t make me leave.  _

_ Why aren’t I allowed to be safe? Why doesn’t the universe want to let me be safe? _ Wilbur would tell him that he deserved peace and happiness. That he deserved something so domestic as this. But he didn’t know what he was talking about, not really. 

Tommy found himself peering at the archway out of the living room. At any moment something could disrupt this. Tommy was not safe, not really. It had only taken 10 seconds for a panic attack (?) to spring out of nowhere. 

_ I bet he wants me to leave. He wants me to leave, doesn’t he?  _ Tommy glanced up at him.  _ He’s a heavy sleeper, he won’t know i’ve left.  _ Dread sunk to the pit of his stomach at the thought of walking home alone at night.

Tommy reached up and gently lifted Wilbur’s warm hand from his shoulder, twisting around and laying it beside him on the couch. He thanked the universe that he avoided head rush from sitting up, and without having to wait for the black spots in his vision to clear, he took a moment to sit there. He knew,  _ he knew _ that Wilbur would tell him he should stay here. 

‘You don’t have to go,’ he’d say, a sad smile tilting his face. He’d pull Tommy back down with him and insist on messing with his hair. He felt a twist of happiness at the thought and memory. 

But he wasn’t safe here. 

When did he start feeling safer on the streets? Tommy couldn’t remember when it began. 

He was halfway out of the house before his feet came to a stop. Then where was he safe? He looked back into the living room, at Wilbur, at the TV still playing, the rug his socks had sunk into, Wilbur’s soft sweater. Where could he ever be safe, if not here? 

A low, frustrated whine escaped his throat before he had the chance to stop it and he put his hands to his face, the archway was cold as he slid his back down and curled up against the wall. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered into the silent room. “I don't know what to do. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do.” 

Tommy buried his head in his knees and felt himself slipping. 

  
  
  
  
  


He woke to a light tickle on his cheek.

He opened his eyes halfway and blinked blearily as gentle fingers brushed hair away from his eyes, moving to rub at his the side of his face and coming to rest there. Tommy blinked again, and, as his vision cleared, took account of Wilbur’s face just a foot away from his own. 

He started back, skull thumping the wall behind him, all the panic from last night rushing back in a wave. 

Wilbur was crouching on his knees next to Tommy, one palm on the floor to hold himself steady, one hand frozen where Tommy’s head had been. He looked… scared. 

Tommy’s heart raced painfully. “What time is it?” 

“Six in the morning.” 

Indeed, light was shining through the windows. 

Tommy rubbed at his face and moved into a less painful sitting position. 

“I fell asleep on the fucking floor,” he managed to squeeze out, voice steady but choking off at the end. 

Wilbur moved to sit next to him. “I just woke up. Why did you fall asleep against the wall? You could have slept in my bed. We talked about that.” 

Wilbur wasn’t accusing, but his eyes portrayed his hesitant worry, hidden horribly behind a mask of confusion. His eyes were always the most expressive thing about him. 

Tommy put a hand weekly against his thumping heart. “I panicked a little after you fell asleep.” 

Wilbur shifted at that. “What do you mean?” His hand twitched towards Tommy’s own, like he wanted to grab it. He probably wanted to smother him with hugs right now. Tommy didn’t know if he appreciated or hated the restraint. 

“It was so quiet.” He folded his arms as his heart began to slow.

Wilbur took a moment, shifting again and staring intently at nothing in thought. 

Tommy swallowed. “Everything was just so dark and quiet. It didn’t feel right… to me. It felt…” his words melted on his tongue. 

Wilbur looked at him worredly, encouragingly. 

“What did it feel like, Tommy?” 

“Scary. Unsafe.” 

Wilbur’s face fell. 

‘I-I know it’s safe here. You keep the doors locked even in the daytime and the crime rates are so low and I'm not going to starve to death or get stabbed and nobody could ever walk through the door and there’s nobody to walk through the door.” He took a breath. “It was just quiet. It was too right. I was afraid something would happen.” 

Wilbur had grabbed his hand while he babbled, rubbing his thumb gently, leaning so their shoulders were touching. Tommy fell into him willingly. 

“I’m sorry I freaked out. Even when good things are happening I still freak out. I don’t want to.” 

“Don’t apologize, please. I know you don’t want to feel bad.” 

“Then why do I?” 

Wilbur made a wounded noise and leaned in to hug him, seemingly losing all this resolve, pulling Tommy around and close so he was buried in his arms. 

“Don’t suffocate me.” 

Wilbur just held him tighter. It was easy to give in. Always, with this one. 

“I wish I could make it all go away.”

“I know.” He climbed slightly over Wilbur’s legs and snuggled himself deeper into his chest. “But you ease it enough for me to want to feel things again.” 

Tommy let out a breath in the side of Wilbur’s arm. 

  
  



End file.
